


Academic Distress

by ProtoNeoRomantic



Series: Patch Works [27]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Genius Willow, Graduating Early, Guidance Counselors, Juvenile Detention, Noneconomically Disadvantaged Youth, Panicky Willow, Science Genius Girl, Skipping Grades, Willow Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow learns that she will graduate from high school early while in Juvenile Detention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Academic Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who Do You Think You Are?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235281) by [ProtoNeoRomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic). 



“Wait, I have to do what today and tomorrow?” Willow asked the Educational Counselor incredulously. The difference in title was evidently in acknowledgment of the fact that in JDC school Counselors didn’t so much ‘guide’ students as tell them exactly what to do.

“Take your final exams,” Mr. Hetherington repeated. “We give them as soon as they have them written, which gives us time to get in three sessions of Summer school instead of two because we go six days a week for five weeks instead of five days a week for six. Most of our students are behind in something, so we try to get everyone caught up while they’re here. Our current term started on Monday, so basically we’re two weeks in to a normal semester, but judging from your records, you should have no trouble catching up. We don’t have any exam or equivalent to that ‘Advance Computer Science Tutorial’ whatever it is, so you’ll have to take an incomplete for that. P.E. they’re just going to go ahead and call an ‘A’, so that leaves Jr. English B, American History II, which you can take this afternoon, and A. P. Calculus, which they are going to have sent over by tomorrow. We haven’t had anybody take that one yet.

“Now, our summer instructional day here is 6:00a.m. to 7:00p.m. that’s twelve hours of classroom time with an hour built in for all your breaks including lunch. We use a sixty-minute hour, because we don’t give homework. Dinner is at 7:15 and lights out at 8:30 and back up again at 5:00a.m. We find that keeps everyone too busy to get into too much trouble, but it means we do four classes each summer session instead of two to three like you would on the outside, so you’ll be able to get through a full semester of coursework and then some in the next seventy days. I’m going to go ahead and place you for tomorrow like you passed everything and then we can adjust if we need to.” Willow nodded to show she understood, though there had not been a request for her to agree to anything. And some kids thought regular school felt like prison.

“Now let’s see,” the Counselor muttered, pulling her transcripts to date from a folder on his desk. “Your class of ’99, so you need 47 semester units to graduate, because the Board is _finally_ going to seven classes a day like the rest of the state... and you’ve got... as of tomorrow... wait that can’t be right. 42?” Willow nodded and smiled apologetically, feeling an odd combination of pride and embarrassment. “ _How_ do you have 42 semester units after six six hour semesters, one of which you're only finishing four classes?” Hetherington questioned, astonished.

“Well I took both semesters of Algebra in the Eighth Grade...” she started to explain, “and I was going to take Ninth Grade Physical Science then too, but I met the qualifications for the Physics First Pilot Program... Then the summer after Ninth Grade I wanted to take Driver’s Ed, but you have to take two classes... and then last Summer I got so bored...” She was working herself into a state, acting as if she thought she was being accused of something. About to be indicted for violating the laws of Mathematics perhaps.

“I got it,” Hetherington interrupted, shaking his head and trying not to grin. _What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?_ He wondered. Of course, his files told him that too, or purported to. But he couldn’t quite figure a clean, sharp kid like this pulling actual time on blessed misdemeanor, even if it was a plea down from a felony. It was still a _juvenile_ adjudication for pity’s sake.

“Hang on,” he said, reviewing the transcripts closely, “not only have you got all your math and science and foreign language requirements, but you’ve got your eight units of English with those two AP classes you took the first half of last summer. All you lack to meet the requirements for graduation is one P.E. class and two units of either Art or Music. In fact, It’s still the ’97-’98 instructional year through June 30th. You only need 45 units to graduate. I don’t know what we’re going to do with you the other five weeks.”

“Oh no!” said Willow, alarmed, verging on panic. “I’m not ready to graduate! I haven’t applied to colleges! I haven’t taken the SATs! And...and, if I graduate with an “Incomplete” on my transcript, it converts to an “F”! It’s a two unit class! That’s two “Fs” worth of a hole in my GPA! And in Computer Science!” She seemed in danger of hyperventilating.

“For the love of Mike, calm down!”Hetherington commanded. He saw a lot of emotionally neglected kids who lived in a perpetual state of insecurity, waiting for the signal to panic but this girl was one of the worst he’d seen lately. Further proof that there was a difference between a “good” home and a well-to-do one. He certainly didn’t want her loose in this place with a high school diploma and, therefore, plenty of time on her hands. The truth was, with all the AP classes she had, and the fact that she only had one single “B” in Ninth Grade P.E., her GPA would still be knocking on 3.9 even with two semester units of “F”s. Assuming her SAT scores were what he knew they should be, that would be good enough for almost any school in America. But probably not MIT or Stanford, especially in Computer Science. There had to be something he could do, about both problems.

Hetherington thought a minute then brightened. “How are you at computer aided drafting?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” said Willow, puzzled, poised to be rankled. “I’ve never tried it.”

“Well you’re about to!” he informed her cheerfully. “An incomplete can be resolved by taking a comparable course when the same course is unavailable,” he explained, “and I’m in charge of what’s a comparable course or not, within reason. So if I give you an Incomplete for your 2 units in the Spring semester, then I can convert it to CAD I and II, which will count for your art requirements. That will stop you from graduating after the first summer term, but it means no “F”s unless you earn ’em. So for this session, that’s CAD I, P.E. and I’m going to put you in regular Twelfth Grade English and Statistics just because our regs say you have to be in an English and a math class unless it interferes with a requirement for sooner graduation, which at this point it doesn’t. If you behave yourself, I _might_ be able to put you in three or even two classes in the second session on the grounds that you need time to study for the June SATs, which it’s not quite too late to sign up for yet. I admit that’s cutting it close on late admission for most schools, but even if you have to apply for the Spring semester, it’s still six months sooner than you thought. I’ll see what I can do about getting you the registration form today, but it may be tomorrow.”

Willow was still stunned, unsure what to think or say. It wasn’t that she necessarily _wanted_ to spend another years at Sunnydale High, especially since Xander had left school. And very especially since Cordelia hadn’t. But she liked to be _prepared_ for major changes in her life, or at least to know they were coming. On the other hand, not counting the three hours of P.E./Health a day, the classes themselves didn’t sound too bad. The only danger with Twelfth Grade English was that it might be too easy to hold her interest for eighteen hours a week, but if so, she could always read the things in the book that the teacher skipped. Statistics might actually be interesting, and learning to draw schematics on the computer seemed like it could be both fun and useful. It also meant she would have access to a computer about three hours a day, which surely held some fun possibilities. She could always use a glamour if she needed to hide what was up on her screen. She’d been through worse Willow assured herself, and anyway, whatever it was like, it would be over in ten short weeks.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a much longer and somewhat contradictory version of a fairly brief episode in that occurs in one of the later chapters of Who Do You Think You Are?


End file.
